Rebel Wayfarers MC Boxset 1 by MariaLisa deMora

Author:MariaLisa deMora
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780986356254
Publisher: MLK Publishing
Published: 2015-02-05T05:00:00+00:00

16 - Out of mind

Days later, Slate was back in Chicago, trying to settle into some kind of routine. He’d been crashing in his room at the clubhouse, not wanting to face the quiet in his house. One of the club mammas had gone over and straightened up, chucking food from the fridge, tidying and getting a layer of dust off everything, so it was clean. But, he found that the house was too damn big after weeks of living squeezed into the tiny quarters at the front of Essa’s trailer.

She was constantly on his mind, and it didn’t help she sent him texts and pictures all the time. She sent pictures of Mason and Mica, her and Mica, her and Molly, and finally, one of only her he saved onto his phone. Someone else had taken the picture, and her hair was a little wild, curling out from underneath her hat, which was shoved tightly down on her head. Her brown eyes were sparkling, and she had the widest smile on her face. Slate reached out a finger, trailing it down the screen as he closed his eyes.

He wouldn’t do this, shouldn’t want her…couldn’t need her like this. He was not the right kind of guy for her, and he wouldn’t be the reason for her getting hurt, but he kept the picture on his phone, and he sent her one of him clowning for the camera.

Sitting behind the bar in Jackson’s, he looked up as the outside door opened, letting in a blustery wind. It was early spring in Chicago, and the Windy City was living up to its name. Slate grinned as he recognized the men walking in, Jason Spencer and Gary Millson; they were from Daniel’s hockey team, and were just rowdy enough to be fun without needing too much intervention.

“Hey, man,” he called to Jason, watching as they altered their direction to come to where he was sitting. Slate held out a hand, stood, and shook with them as they all settled onto barstools.

“What y’all doin’ in Jackson’s on a weekday?” he asked. “Isn’t today normally practice?”

“Motherfucker, we made the playoffs; we don’t have practice for four days, and so life...is...gooood,” Jason drawled, laughing.

“Fucking playoffs, that’s great, man,” Slate said, nodding. “How’s Daniel doin’ these days?”

There was silence from the two men, then, “Not good, Slate, not good at all. He’s still crawling out of a bottle every morning, and his skating has gone to complete shit. He’s gonna get himself killed if he keeps it up. Do you know when Mica is coming back?”

He shook his head. “She might not come back, from what I hear. Mason said she’s pretty entrenched back home now. She’s making up for lost time with her family, spending lots of time with her sister and cousin.” He stood and stretched, stepping behind the bar, asking, “Draft?” and saw the men nod.

Grabbing three chilled mugs, he pulled the beer expertly, leaving barely an inch of head on each. He

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